


Do You Know Them to Be Worthy?

by TrappingLightningBugs



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Religious, Anal Sex, Blasphemy, Blow Jobs, Bottom Do Kyungsoo | D.O, Crisis of Faith, Dream Sex, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Priest Kink, Religion Kink, Strength Kink, Succubi & Incubi, Top Park Chanyeol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 00:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9938078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrappingLightningBugs/pseuds/TrappingLightningBugs
Summary: Father Kyungsoo gave his life to his parish, never thinking that the demons of ancient times could exist, and certainly never thinking that one would target him for his most secret sin.





	

When the Ahns first made their appointment with him, Kyungsoo assumed it would be fairly typical; a rebellious teen, tears, perhaps some shouting, and a lot of prayers that would hopefully be the start to the teenage girl finding a new path. The parents had talked to him privately after service just the Sunday before, and he had agreed to talk to them as a group to hopefully provide some counselling and insight for the girl. 

She came in with a face messily laden in makeup, like she had applied it in the car, and while she wore a heavy jacket befitting of the season, her skirt was slit all of the way up, showing off glints of leg and thigh as she moved. 

Kyungsoo had seen it all before, and he gestured for them to sit, welcoming the trio fondly as he sat at his desk, ignoring how the girl had crossed her legs to show off a bare thigh, her father looking like he might combust as he spat at her to sit with both feet on the floor. 

Rolling her eyes, she moved to obey, and hoping to avoid an argument, Kyungsoo then opened the conversation, saying, “Now, Hyejin, your parents are concerned for you. You’ll get your chance to talk, but I think it might be beneficial to see what they have to say first.” 

She crossed her arms across her chest, but before she could reply, her mother started to speak, tears welling up in her eyes, “You’ve just been acting so differently lately. Your coach says you haven’t been to practice, and you leave the house in such revealing clothing…you’re not a grown up yet, darling. These are the best years of your life, and if you got pregnant...” 

The father cut in then, “Hyejin, you leave the house dressed like a floozy. People will get the wrong idea, and someone could hurt you. It’s your immortal soul on the line, and we raised you better than that. You need to start listening, or you will be the one to pay.” 

Kyungsoo rose his hand to gesture for peace. “No talk of violence in here, please. Now, Hyejin, it’s your turn to speak.” 

She studied him for a moment, eyes narrowed ever so slightly, before they widened with innocence. “Could I…speak to you first, father? My parents might punish me for being truthful, and I don’t want to lie to you.” 

Both of her parents began protesting, but Kyungsoo gestured for quiet again, seeing the wisdom in this. “Alright Hyejin. We can speak privately if you like.” Turning to her parents, he smiled and said, “If you speak to Father Kim, he can bring you some snacks. I promise we will discuss everything once we’re done.” 

They nodded, trusting him, as he had worked for their church for years and they felt like they knew him. 

Once they were out, the door shut, he turned to Hyejin and laced his fingers together on top of his desk. “What would you like to talk about?” 

She frowned at him. “It’s not my fault. My parents don’t get it. They want me to stay in and study—and then dad will say ‘these are the best years of my life,’ like I’m actually allowed to do anything that would make these years fun, but I’m not!” 

Kyungsoo nodded, it all sounding very familiar. “Go on.” 

Hyejin shook her head, “They didn’t even like me playing volleyball until I started going out—then it was ‘shouldn’t you be focusing on your sports?’ They thought it was a distraction.” Her voice was bitter, and Kyungsoo felt a pang of sympathy. 

“You should mind your parents.” He chided her gently, continuing before she could protest, “But if there are other things that are important to you, you should be willing to compromise. Say if you wanted to go to a party, you might have to have an earlier curfew.” 

Seeing her surprise, he finished, “You need to see things for yourself. Proverb 20:11 says ‘Even a child makes himself known by his acts, by whether his conduct is pure and upright.’ You understand how to behave. And that is the compromise.” His eyes darted to her skirt. “Leave the house in clothes they approve of, respect them, and then speak to them. Remember they have experience you don’t at this point in your life, and try to be understanding.” 

Her face faded into lines of annoyance. “Like adults are so blameless.” 

“I didn’t say they were.” Kyungsoo smiled sadly at her. “But your parents will do the best they can for you, because they love you, Hyejin.” 

Deciding something then, Kyungsoo opened his desk drawer and drew out a small cross necklace, seeing she wasn’t wearing one. “Here. God knows the righteous, and He will reward those that stay on His path. I know you’re a good person, but that takes practice, too.” 

Her eyes flickered between the necklace and his face, before she rose to come take the piece off of him, her fingertips brushing his palm for a brief moment. 

“Why are you giving me this?” Her eyes rose to meet his, and he noted for a moment how exhausted she looked, dark bags under her eyes. 

Smiling gently, he replied, hoping they could all reconcile, “Because I believe in your capacity to be good—but we all need a reminder from time to time why the hard actions are the best.” 

He watched her fight back a sneer, but she nodded respectfully to him, and he then called her parents back in. 

The meeting proceeded normally, but somewhere in the middle he swore he felt something heavier in the air, in the way that Hyejin occasionally would stare at him. Kyungsoo didn’t usually get sagacious looks from his procession, but occasionally young, lost members would attempt something, so he merely ignored her looks, and made a note to not talk to her without anyone else present from there on out. 

Otherwise, the day proceeded like normal; he led a practice mass with the choir after school let out, got himself a late dinner, and then spent the rest of his night translating his sermons into Korean, for the older members of his congressional to read, if they so desired. 

When he finally fell into bed, he checked his cell phone, groaning a bit at the reminder that he needed to call his mother, then fell into a deep sleep. 

\-- 

It was too hot; Kyungsoo stirred in his sleep, rolling from his usual comfortable position on his side to his back, his sleeping t-shirt riding up in the front to expose his pale, soft stomach, legs twisted in his sheet. He flickered in and out of sleep, a face hanging behind his eyelids, whispering his name. 

Or, to be more specific, his professional name. 

“Father Kyungsoo, can’t you help me?” The voice breathed. 

The dream slipped over him like a sheet of gossamer, and suddenly Kyungsoo was in his office, seated behind his desk, talking to Hyejin again. 

“You see, Father,” she purred, rising to shed her jacket, showing off a low cut crop top over that long skirt, “I’ve had my eye on you for days…” 

She approached his desk, planted her hands on it, and he noted how the light only came in from the window behind him, blowing out her silhouette so her shadow appeared monstrous, enormous. 

“Someone so cute, so pure, with lips like that, and a voice like an angel’s…” She leaned over, giving him a clear view into her cleavage. 

Kyungsoo didn’t let her finish; he stood up so that he looked down at her, and he marched around the desk, proclaiming, “I don’t tolerate such lascivious actions in my office. I’m here to help you, Hyejin. You’re pushing me away with actions like these.” 

“And why would I want to be away from you, Father?” She flew around the corner of his desk faster than he thought possible, hands grabbing his wrists in an iron grip, her expression manic. “You can’t say you’ve never thought about me.” 

He tried to draw back, but he bumped into something soft and solid—what felt like another person, whose hands came up to steady him. 

Kyungsoo swallowed, and he continued to protest, but Hyejin only drew back when the man behind him ordered: “Enough. You’ve tortured this poor man enough.” 

She pouted, went to argue, but the man ordered, voice a bit bored, “Begone, she beast.” 

Her features contorted into a horrible scowl, but she stormed out like a normal teenage girl, even slamming the door for good measure. 

Once she was gone, Kyungsoo stepped free of the man’s hold, turning to face him, noting that he looked dressed more for grocery shopping than church, in a warm green sweater and blue jeans. “Thank you for your assistance, my child.” 

The man looked back at him smiled. “It was nothing. I’m glad to help someone as distinguished as yourself.” 

Kyungsoo blushed, embarrassed by his praise. “Please, I do what my brothers have been doing for centuries.” 

Shrugging, the man pushed his hands into his pockets, and Kyungsoo’s attention followed the motion of his broad shoulders, his strong arms, and the bright, encouraging smile on the man’s face. “You were the youngest graduate into the clergy in decades. That’s worth celebrating, Father Kyungsoo.” 

His voice rumbled over his name, too deep for such a soft face, and Kyungsoo fought to chase his earlier blush away. “And you are?” 

Flashing another bright, white smile, the man introduced himself: “I’m Chanyeol.” 

“Are you new to the church?” 

The man chuckled, shook his head. “I don’t go places where I’m not welcome.” 

Objections immediately rose to Kyungsoo’s lips, “Of course you’re welcome. The Lord loves all of his children.” 

“Even the homosexual ones?” The man’s eyes glinted knowingly, and Kyungsoo felt his mouth dry up, suddenly. 

“H-His holiness the Pope has decreed—” he tried to say, only to find his words being cut off. 

“Yes, but what do the worshipers actually do?” Chanyeol shrugged. “You have to hear about it. You must know. ‘Give me strength to deal with my child,’ ‘What did I do wrong that she’s like this?’ It’s a wonder you can stay.” 

His words were pointed, like they knew, but how could a stranger know? 

Kyungsoo felt a bit lightheaded, but he still shook his head, saying firmly, “I am loved. The judgments of others have nothing to do with my relationship with God and I know He loves me.” 

Chanyeol just watched him, his expressive eyes showing something akin to pity. “So what about in school, when you got shoved into lockers? When everyone laughed at you?” 

Kyungsoo felt color rise to his cheeks in a completely different way compared to moments before, an odd memory of inexperience returning to him as he stared up at the other. Chanyeol no longer wore his beautifully casual clothes, and instead was dressed in the navy and white uniform of his old high school, his face softer than he swore it had been moments before. 

Seeing his youth, wondering how he had missed it, he took a careful step backward, casting his eyes down with shame. “I don’t know why they saw me that way, I—” 

“So you deny the way you watched your classmates?” Chanyeol pressed forward, trapping Kyungsoo against a student’s desk. 

He glanced around rapidly, confused how they moved from his church to his old high school classroom, Kyungsoo recognizing the pencil cases and chair pillows left scattered on the desks in front of him. But that wasn’t possible, the people who graduated with him wouldn’t still have things in these desks. 

“I—” 

“Remember Jongin?” He raised an eyebrow. “Swimming team? You joined that because you were a good swimmer, right?” 

Kyungsoo shut his eyes, trying to forcibly control his breathing. “No, please…” 

“Kyungsoo- _ah.”_ Chanyeol’s voice rumbled over his name in a way that nearly made the man shiver, “Why are you running? There’s nothing wrong with those things.” 

A finger came to rest under his chin, tilting it up, and he looked at the other in shock at the contact, body tense with panic as he stared at the calm, sweet face of the stranger. 

“It’s a sin.” He whispered, “It’s a sin to be…like that.” 

“Is it?” The boy chuckled, and before he could question the sudden age difference, the boy’s lips descended to his, kissing him gently. 

His heart thundered in his chest, and Kyungsoo had to fight to push him away. “This is inappropriate, you’re a student.” 

“And what are you then? My teacher?” Chanyeol teased, eyes warm with affection. 

“No, I’m…” Kyungsoo glanced down again, and caught sight of himself wearing his old uniform, the blazer fitted over his notably thinner chest. “What?” 

Chanyeol moved in, a hand going to grab his hip, drawing their bodies nearly flush together. “Come on, before P.E. ends. I really wanted to see you.” 

A flush rose to his cheeks, and his hands moved to Chanyeol’s chest, like he would push him away, but he couldn’t quite manage it. “Chanyeol,” he tried to beg, wanting the other to spare him before he could do something shameful, but the boy wasn’t having it. 

He drew Kyungsoo into a kiss, their lips meeting a bit clumsily, his parting around Kyungsoo’s plush lower lip, moving with a speed and hunger that made Kyungsoo’s head spin. 

Clutching at the front of his jacket, he followed Chanyeol’s lead when he lifted him to sit on the desk, the boy between his parted legs so they didn’t have to break their kiss. Kyungsoo let out a soft, disbelieving noise when a bare hand, slightly cold to the touch, slid up under his shirt, pressing it up slowly to expose his chest to the air. It felt so dirty to be exposed even like that in his classroom, but he didn’t pull back, gasping softly at his own audacity as his legs wrapped up around Chanyeol’s hips. 

Chanyeol leaned in, and he felt the boy’s hardness pressing to him, the sensation stealing the rest of the air from Kyungsoo’s lungs so that he had to break the kiss, though their bodies didn’t part, the taller boy’s thumbs skimming over his nipples, making him see stars for a moment. He didn’t let anything like this happen at all normally, so the lightest touches were enough to produce violent shivers, Kyungsoo clinging to him like he would fall to the floor without his support. 

“We don’t have much time,” Chanyeol mused, “So let’s not do too much.” 

Then his hands were on the fly of Kyungsoo’s pants, undoing the button, drawing them down just enough for his rather large hand to fit inside, fingers skirting over the bulge that Kyungsoo refused to acknowledge, even when his eyes fluttered shut with amazed pleasure. 

“Chanyeol…” he murmured, a soft noise escaping when his boxers were drawn down, and his cock sprung free. Kyungsoo couldn’t even look at himself, mouth gaping slightly as Chanyeol turned his attention down, hand wrapping around the shaft, giving a test pump, thumb running up over the head to collect a bit of the precum, before he moved to show it to the other. 

“What’s so wrong with this?” He murmured, before drawing his thumb to his lips to lick the stickiness off, “You deserve to feel good, too.” 

Chanyeol then licked a stripe up his palm, it moving down to wrap around Kyungsoo’s cock, and he stroked him in quick, skilled pulls, the glide wonderfully warm and wet, to the extent that didn’t fit just a bit of saliva over his palm. But the moment he started to wonder about a rougher texture, he felt it, and the slight coarseness had pleasure flooding through him. Kyungsoo grabbed his arms hard as he groaned in pleasure, body tensing as he came into the other’s hand, his seed splattering obviously over the boy’s navy dress pants. 

“You wanted this so badly back then, I know,” Chanyeol cooed, voice turning sultry as the world grew fuzzy, “You dreamed of Jongin kissing you against the lockers, of you feeling and touching his chest. You didn’t dare think this far, but you craved it, Kyungsoo.” 

Right as he flailed awake, body a sticky, hot mess, he heard, ever so faintly, “You would have done this and more.” 

\-- 

He felt more than a little shaken as he took his morning shower—normally he didn’t remember his dreams after that much time had passed in the morning, but the sensation of the hot water running over his naked body only reinforced the memory of the gorgeous man, the confrontation, the touches. 

Kyungsoo’s hand shook as he turned the stream of shower water on colder, breath rasping into the air like he was hanging onto a cliff side without a harness. He hadn’t had a dream like that since puberty, and the inherent sin of it made him bite back a whimper of shame, even though he logically knew he would never dream of something like that if he had a choice. 

Skipping breakfast to repent was only the first step in that terrible day—he went straight to the church, and while he saw others there early, he didn’t approach them, instead choosing to light a candle and say his prayers to the bloody, tortured face of Jesus. 

He knew logically that he didn’t know Jesus personally, and the Bible likely cut out anything that would humanize him, because he wasn’t meant to be relatable. Jesus was meant to seem good, an ideal, a figure to love you when _you_ couldn’t even love you. When you didn’t _deserve_ to love yourself. Kyungsoo pretended he was talking to him, though he dared barely even think the words. 

“Please…everything I do is in the name of my faith. I work hard every day to remain worthy. I understand this is probably a test…but I fear my ability to pass it.” 

Kyungsoo imagined Jesus responding with something gentle—like how his humbleness spoke to his worthiness, and that as long as he tried his best, the Lord would see and the Lord would know. 

Tension slowly left his shoulders as he ran through his prayers again. He had needed the reassurance that he was worthy as long as he fought to stay good, even if no one had really said the words to him. Temptation existed for everyone, and while his was inherently dirtier, a person who desired to fornicate with an animal, but repressed the urge, still was redeemable. Was still worthy of being saved. And so was he. 

The calming repetition of confessional after that, and the faith he evoked in his hospital visits and encouraging meeting with the other workers of his church, restored his good faith so that by dinner time he was able to eat with the others. It was with a much restored mentality that he attended his Friday night mass, greeting those that came in warmly, testing his memory of the names of his parish to his own satisfaction. 

Kyungsoo greeted every single person, mind completely on his duty, when the Ahns came in, looking much less stressed than the last time they had met with him. 

Well, the parents did: Hyejin looked like she hadn’t gotten much sleep since he had last seen her, and even though she was properly bundled up for the weather, she was clutching her coat to her like the wind blew straight through it. Her parents didn’t make much of a fuss to get her to take it off, likely because they were probably just happy that she was covered, but they also didn’t notice that she didn’t dip her hands in the holy water. 

He frowned, but decided not to call her on it when she looked so troubled. It easily could have slipped her mind, and frankly they all had days like that. 

Greeting them, the Ahns were overly friendly, clearly thinking he had caused the sudden change in their daughter, but when he looked down at her, he froze, not seeing pupils in her eyes at first glance. 

“Miss Ahn,” he tried, looking away then back, repressing his panic when her eyes still looked alien, “I hope you’re feeling alright?” 

She stared wordlessly up at him, and right as her father looked like he would scold her, she smirked, saying, “Hello, Father. Did you have a good day at school?” 

Her parents clearly didn’t know what to make of this, but Kyungsoo’s blood ran cold—the girl had to be addled, confused. There was no way she could know about his dream. 

Offering her a comforting smile, he replied, “I went to a hospital today, actually. Schools aren’t too big on pastors coming in.” Thankfully that set off Mr. Ahn, who clearly disagreed with that, and they went to find their seats, his wife dutifully nodding as he went on. 

Kyungsoo fought not to look at Hyejin for the remainder of the service, though he found that impossible, as they sat dead center up front. Hyejin’s eyes never seemed to leave him, even for a moment, and sweat raced down his spine, the lights feeling hotter than usual. The oppressive air had Kyungsoo paranoid, imagining something had come into this holy hall to haunt him. She couldn’t know. So why was she _staring at him like that?_

After the service, he hung around to talk to his parish like he normally would, but he was distracted. Eventually, he had to excuse himself to another shower, another session of rapid prayer, promising to buy sleeping pills to keep him from sinful dreams if his unconscious mind couldn’t follow a holier path. 

Sleep that night came fitfully, but after a bit of flailing, unable to find a comfy position, he sat up in bed, squinting in the dim lighting, trying to see what time it was. Everything was blurry, and he reached for his glasses, thinking that he had to get eye surgery at some point. Kyungsoo hated how dorky his glasses made him look, but it wasn’t like he could sleep with contacts in. Before he became a priest, he would just have to shell out the money. 

Shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, he inhaled slowly as he heard the quiet sounds of water running, likely as his roommate prepared for bed. He had been blessed in the sense that his roommate was always out late, and when he was in, he was such an over-the-top Catholic that he often could only speak in Bible verses. Kyungsoo had worried in the beginning about sharing his space in university with another man, but this man had turned out to be so intolerable that he felt none of his fearsome cravings. 

The bathroom door creaked open, and he figured he might go splash some water on his face, eyes feeling grainy and hot, but as he rose, he glanced at his roommate and froze. “You…” 

Chanyeol stared back at him, naked except for the towel wrapped around his waist. “What? I told you I’d be back late tonight.” 

Kyungsoo forced his mouth closed, remembering this man, but not understanding how he could be there. “I’m dreaming,” He croaked out, “How are you here? Where’s Junmyeon?” 

“Who?” The man brushed his dripping bangs out of his face and headed for his wardrobe, “Seriously Kyungsoo, you need to lay off on those caffeine pills. They’re messing with your head.” 

“No, no…” He muttered to himself, swearing he knew the truth, eyes going somewhere in the distance as he tried to piece his fuzzy memories together. 

It was in that moment of distraction that he missed the other moving, one large, impossibly warm hand settling on his hip, the other going to the back of his neck. Kyungsoo startled, but couldn’t move before Chanyeol’s lips were on his, the man’s barely contained hunger present in the hard insistence of his touches. Kyungsoo tried and found he couldn’t slip away, the hands pressing harder, lips parting to suck on his bottom lip. His head spun, and he gasped, body falling still as Chanyeol pulled them flush together. 

He deliriously noted the man’s hard planes of muscle, the sensation of his own sensitive nipples rubbing against his sleep shirt, pressing to the strength of the other. It was all too much, and he whimpered with want. 

Kyungsoo grabbed at his biceps, and the defined muscle made him feel so small, like a doll in the hands of a giant. The rush of arousal that came with that thought sent his head spinning. 

Chanyeol’s teeth found his lower lip for a moment, and this time when he parted his lips, a warm tongue pressed in, brushing against his, their hips meeting in a similar brush, the hard jut of _something_ jolting through him. 

“No, no,” he tried to say, but Chanyeol wouldn’t let him move, and it wasn’t until he smacked the man’s chest that the other reacted at all. 

His hands both dropped before Kyungsoo could move, going to grab his ass shamelessly, squeezing with relish, causing the priest to yelp in surprise. Embarrassment colored Kyungsoo’s cheeks, weakening his fight enough that Chanyeol was able to back him up to his bed. 

It felt good, being at the mercy of someone bigger and stronger than him, and that thought flipped something in the air, Kyungsoo suddenly lying flat on his back, clothes gone. 

“Wait—” he begged, voice choked as he looked up at the glorious expanse of the other, arms too weak to shift from their position next to him. 

Chanyeol’s smirk was liquid. “I can feel how much you want me.” His hand went down to dip into his own boxers, cupping himself, and Kyungsoo couldn’t see the details, but the intense want flooding through him told him that he didn’t need to. 

He wanted to touch. God forgive him, he wanted to touch. 

“There you go,” Chanyeol praised, drawing the waistband of his boxers down, hand pumping slowly over his hardened length now that the pastor could see him. 

Kyungsoo’s eyes flickered over it, taking in the lovely flushed shade, the length and girth, the man shocked at how much he wanted it to stretch him to his limit. There was no fear, and no shame at the thought, Kyungsoo unable to process beyond the sight beyond his own desire. He wanted to touch, wanted to touch him, touch him. 

Chanyeol’s hand moved faster, breath coming in fast pants. “Yeah, just like that, tell me how good I look, little priest.” 

The reminder of his shame made him shudder, but also brought him the picture of them, Kyungsoo underneath this strange man, writhing and moaning as he stared out at his parish, trying to give a sermon as the man fucked into him from behind. 

“Kinky.” Chanyeol bit his lower lip. “You know, I can always tell… You’re not my territory, pretty little priest, but I can _always_ tell.” 

Kyungsoo’s breath hitched with panic, and the scene returned to his university dorm room, slick sounds filling the air as the man jerked off over him, straddling his hips now. He tried to remember if Chanyeol was that close last time, but his attention couldn’t wander far from the source of his desire, culminating in the man’s cock poised over him. 

“Let me go…” He tried to whimper, but even he knew how hypocritical he sounded compared to the pretty blush down his chest, the way his eyes couldn’t stay off of him. 

“I knew the moment I saw you what kind of pastor you are: Celibacy so young either means mind control, stupidly serious devotion, or…” 

“Stop it!” Kyungsoo snapped, but then he felt the horrifying pleasure as the man settled down more heavily on top of him, ass pressing to his own arousal in a way he wouldn’t even let himself enjoy. 

“Do you want me to? Really?” Chanyeol ground his hips down, and Kyungsoo whimpered, unable to raise his arms or a protest, pleasure swirling around him. “That’s what I thought.” 

His hand moved faster, and Kyungsoo heard his name from a familiar source, pulling free of the dream right as the man came all over his chest, the warmth splattering over his wanting body as a pair of different hands shook him frantically. 

“Father, Father!” The man cried, another young priest that was visiting from his home country. “Please wake up!” 

Kyungsoo finally drifted fully awake, and he grumbled, “What’s up? What’s wrong?” 

“It was late,” the man babbled, drawing back from him almost fearfully, “The others thought I should come and wake you, but Father—You had a dark cloud hovering over you.” 

It took him a moment to realize what he had just said, and when he did, he shot up in bed, eyes fierce as they took in the man, trying to make sure he wasn’t still dreaming. 

“You’re sure of this, Father Zitao?” He asked softly. 

The other nodded, then crossed himself. “It looked evil, Father. It didn’t get to you, did it?” 

Kyungsoo’s hand went up to grip the cross around his neck, the metal strangely cold even though it had been laying against him all night. He took that as a sign of protection from the—thing, man he had seen twice now in his dreams. “No. But I will be extra diligent from here on out. I will have my room purified tonight.” 

This seemed to reassure Zitao, who nodded respectfully to him. “Shall I tell the secretary to email the other parishes?” 

“Yes. Please.” Kyungsoo set his jaw, trying and failing to put aside his memory of the man’s hot cum splattering over his chest. “They can’t come soon enough.” 

\-- 

Sadly, the other priests had seemed a bit dubious when they had arrived—Father Zitao was younger than him, and still prone to spooking when things got even a little supernatural. Kyungsoo hated that term, but while he could see why the other would use it to describe the experience, he winced a bit when the other Fathers relayed that to him. 

The head of his church gave them a disapproving look, but once the ceremony began, everyone admitted that there was a heavy presence in Kyungsoo’s bedroom. No one could confirm for sure if it would work, so one Father from another church offered him refuge for the night, so his room could purify in the lack of energy. 

Kyungsoo saw the wisdom in this and packed an overnight bag, planning on settling in long before the sun went down. Somehow he felt superstitious, even though he knew that kind of thing was nonsense, and he wanted to be safely inside by the time the sun would sink below the horizon. 

Father Zitao bowed slightly to him when he went to leave, and affection welled up in him for the other young priest; he knew if they had no spectators that Zitao would have hugged him. He didn’t have a strong constitution, and unlike Kyungsoo, who feared to touch men for too long, lest sin be sowed in his mind, Zitao went out of his way to hug everyone he could. The man believed in showing his love to those in his parish, even though he was warned time and time again that his actions could be misconstrued. Frankly, Kyungsoo didn’t care—he needed more people like that in his life. People that just wanted to make sure others felt loved. 

He inhaled shakily, snapping his mind off of Zitao, afraid his sin might spread to one of the few people he actually considered a friend, and went to pray in his temporary room, murmuring a reverent, thankful prayer to the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost. 

The day passed normally, and he thanked the acceptance of his religion, how the parish members recognized him from his prior visits and thus left him to himself. 

Kyungsoo ran out to the pharmacy before going to bed that night to buy sleeping pills, too paranoid about his dreams to trust even distance to keep him safe. 

That night there was a slight presence that hovered over him, but the pills kept him safe from dreams, and it had to depart without feeding, displeased. 

The next day he deigned to return to his own church, after thanking the others profusely, and he dared hope that this all could be over, that he could return to being the pious guide for his people without having to worry about physical manifestations of his sin. 

After settling back in and taking a shower, his mood was up, and he genuinely began to hope that his ordeal was over. 

That is, until dark. 

He took one of his sleeping pills, but instead of a swath of darkness gently tugging him down until morning, he found himself seated in a rather comfortable chair, hand brushing through someone’s hair tenderly, like you would a lover or a small child that needs comforting. 

The small, dark room refused to come into focus, and the face of the person he cradled stayed fuzzy as it pushed into his thigh like an animal would, asking for comfort. 

Kyungsoo spread his legs unconsciously, and the face nuzzled his bare inner thigh, breath ghosting over it as the man murmured, “Don’t you like this?” 

He sighed in response, soft, warm lips tracing their way down. “Of course.” 

A smile pressed itself to his skin, breath fanning over his cock. “So you missed me?” 

He couldn’t think of a reply, didn’t know how to tell the man that he didn’t know who was talking to him, but the figure seemed to understand. 

“It feels good, right? To have someone hold you.” A kiss on his inner thigh. “Someone to cradle you close.” A kiss at the base of his cock, and Kyungsoo’s hand tightened in his hair. “Someone to give you everything you normally have to beg for, without any fuss.” 

“Wait,” the call back to his religion had him straining to try to see through the fog, “I have everything I could ever need.” 

A chuckle warmed against his quickly heating skin, a large hand coming to wrap around the base of his hardening cock, pumping it languidly, like they had all of the time in the world. 

“So you’re telling me when you visit your family, you feel like your place in the world is secured? You feel like they’re happy with you and you feel happy with them?” 

Unpleasant feelings, familiar and packed, started to rise in his chest, and he shied away from them, not wanting to disrupt the peacefulness of the moment. “No, I—” 

The lips trailed up his cock, tongue coming out to lave over the velvety skin, then circle the underside of the head. “It’s never enough, Father. They’ll always suspect you, even when you try your hardest.” 

Kyungsoo’s hands tightened violently, but the man didn’t seem to feel it. “I choose differently every day. They know that.” 

“But it’s not a choice, is it?” His lips wrapped around the head of his cock, suckling lightly, and Kyungsoo bit back his soft moan. 

Shockingly, the man went all of the way down, almost like he wanted to show he could, before he drew back, letting Kyungsoo’s cock fall out of his mouth with a pop. His hands went to the pastor’s shoulders, and he gently pushed him back, a bed suddenly underneath him. 

He moved to crawl on top of him, continuing, “You try your hardest every day, and all they see is that boy you were kissing in that photo.” 

A sob built up in Kyungsoo’s chest, and the man moved to kiss him right over his heart. His hands went to Kyungsoo’s wrists, and he pinned them with ease above his head. 

“God loves me,” he bit out, “God wants to see His children succeed even when His children turn their backs on their own children.” 

He knew it was Chanyeol; the name had come back to him in his blaze of anger, the dream beginning to fade. 

Before he snapped himself awake, he heard, “But why would God allow such a thing, if he loves you? Do you deserve to be tested so much more harshly?” 

It was the question that had been eating him alive since college—the question even his faith couldn’t quite answer so assuredly—and he woke up with his pillow wet with tears. 

\-- 

He tried to go about his duties that day normally, but he knew he looked sick; one glance in the mirror showed an odd dull pallor to his skin, a defeat in his eyes that sickened him a bit. Kyungsoo thought he was stronger than this, stronger than the phantom that wanted to draw him to sin, but his own doubts were overwhelming. 

Sitting at the back of his church, he clasped his hands together and tried to pray for mercy, tried to search for the love he knew God had to give to His child, but he couldn’t focus, only feeling the eyes around him, staring at him. 

Taking a deep breath, he tried to ignore the sensation of the others staring, but when one of the altar boys approached him, asking if he was alright, he found himself standing up, shaking his head instead of reassuring him. 

“I’m feeling a bit sick.” He admitted, “I think I’m going to go lay down.” 

“We’ll pray for you.” The boy replied, and Kyungsoo could only offer him a weak smile in return. 

On normal days, God felt like the loving parent he had never known; like a father that would put every one of his pictures up on the fridge, like a mother that only wanted to hold him close, wanted to see him do his best and succeed, but that day, he only felt the limitations. 

It sickened him to think so, but some days it felt like God only loved him when he was good, regardless of what Kyungsoo normally told others. 

“If I’m sinful, am I worth loving? Am I worth anything?” He shed his robes, hands shaking with misery. “If I can’t get rid of this, aren’t I just a failure? Doesn’t God cry that there are people like me?” 

Kyungsoo knew he should dress on the off chance someone came to check on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to reach for his lounging robes, or even his nice embroidered pajamas that his aunt had gifted him for Christmas some years before. 

Instead, he found himself going into the bottom of his research drawer to draw out a shirt he had refused to look at for as long as he could remember, though he couldn’t bear to throw it out. 

It no longer smelled like him, but the softness of the fabric reminded him of their stolen nights that they had together, so few, but so precious. He used to rest his head against his chest and pray that he could feel happy like that always. 

Kyungsoo was sliding it on before he could think too hard about it, the shirt falling to expose his collarbones, as it was far too big on him, and he moved to hug himself, dropping to his knees. He expected tears to come, but his eyes were dry. Tragedy and loneliness overwhelmed him. Getting up ever again would be too much. 

“Hey,” A hand came to rest on his shoulder, a familiar voice filling the empty room with something stronger than his sadness. “Don’t talk like that. You are valuable.” 

The tall man moved to kneel next to him, his long legs folding up gracefully, and Kyungsoo found himself looking into the dark eyes of Chanyeol. 

“Valuable to no one.” He replied weakly, “You said as much, remember?” 

Chanyeol shook his head. “I didn’t say to no one. You’re valuable to me.” 

Kyungsoo barked out a laugh. “I’m just another person giving into their madness. I feed you. Of course I’m valuable to you.” 

Silence met his words, then a short, small, incredulous laugh came, snapping Kyungsoo’s attention around. 

“What?” 

“You…don’t know what I am?” Chanyeol smiled, it looking unconscious in his annoying amusement. “All this time, and you still think I’m just an unconscious desire made physical by some sort of madness?” 

“Of course.” Kyungsoo frowned. “You don’t encounter real people like that in your dreams.” 

Chanyeol shook his head, muttering, “Modern Catholics, I swear, no respect for their own history.” 

Even if he had all but given up, the words offended Kyungsoo. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me.” He shifted so he was fully facing the other. “I know you’re young and smart. You must know what my precedent is.” When Kyungsoo didn’t move to speak, he sighed. “You’ve never heard of incubi before? I know you know about demonic possession.” 

Kyungsoo _was_ ready for such a thing, though. “I couldn’t be possessed. I wear my cross, I cleanse myself every time I enter a church.” 

Now Chanyeol smirked, and for the first time, Kyungsoo felt fear. “You’re correct. But as an incubus, I don’t have to possess people to affect them. I just need…a way in. Thankfully, the girl I was possessing brought me to you.” 

“Girl?” Kyungsoo’s eyes widened, his concern for the other mountains higher than his self-preservation. 

“That I possessed. That brought me to you.” 

Hyejin flashed to mind, and he shot to his feet. “You leave her alone. She’s just a child.” 

Chanyeol shrugged. “It’s my job. As you try to “save” her, it is my job to show her she has other options. My job to show her the other side of the path.” 

“Your job to drag innocents to Hell!” He fought to keep his voice down, afraid that if someone else came, they would find him talking to himself, even then. 

The man shook his head, and his smile turned sad, sweet. “I take them somewhere they can be happy. Somewhere without judgement.” 

“Hell is judgement.” He stared hard at Chanyeol. 

“For mortals, yes.” The incubus rose to stand next to him as well, and his eyes glowed red for a moment, showing Kyungsoo a vision of mass fornication, the bodies twisted together so he could barely make out the separate forms. “But Hell isn’t just torture. It’s gratification. The torture is for those that would still chase Heaven, after facing or not facing their transgressions that Heaven dislikes. For those that desire to stay, for those that refuse to find shame in what they’ve done…” His hand came up to cradle Kyungsoo’s cheek. “It is its own kind of paradise. Freedom.” He emphasized, “Happiness.” 

Kyungsoo didn’t understand why he let the demon touch him, but his mind was overrun by the vision presented to him; all men who were good people, despite what doctrine would say about their preferences. People who reminded celibate as befitting their religion, but would be shunned for their preferences, or even if they wished to marry properly, they weren’t allowed to marry other men. He had secretly supported the current Pope, hoping the public opinion of Catholics would change to fit the Pope’s, but many saw the Pope as too liberal, worth respecting, but not worth listening to. 

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he knew Chanyeol might be manipulating reality, that Hell could never look like that, but a soft voice in his mind murmured _what if Chanyeol was the one telling the truth?_ What if Hell was only bad for those that deserved punishment? Purgatory was a part of Hell, after all, and that was for those that were good but couldn’t get to Heaven for some reason. Sex was seen as a base need, not something to give up Heaven for, and Kyungsoo agreed there, but to him, he didn’t want to go to Heaven thinking he needed to be fixed. He was a flawed being, but if his love was what was wrong with him, then he felt betrayed. If it was a test from Him, maybe it was too cruel, like giving a modern student a test in ancient Greek and expecting them to get at least a passing grade. 

A hand came to rest on his cheek, thumb stroking over the soft skin, and Kyungsoo choked out, “I don’t like being manipulated.” 

Chanyeol just looked at him. “Am I forcing you to listen?” 

Kyungsoo looked up at him. “Would you go away if I asked you? Isn’t it your job to condemn souls?” 

The incubus looked a bit sheepish. “In a sense, yes. But you’re not my host. Actually, you’re outside my jurisdiction. I could get in a lot of trouble for touching Succubus territory, even if you’re gay. I don’t have my normal amount of power here.” His other hand went to rest on Kyungsoo’s hip, and he stepped closer. “I reached out because I could sense your soul. It craves more than the self-hatred you’ve been feeding it.” 

Flinching, the pastor considered his words, then sighed, softly. “It goes against everything.” 

Chanyeol leaned down, eyes glowing softly from the light coming through the window, and he kissed him once, lips tender. It made Kyungsoo’s head spin, and he froze right there, unable to move or think. 

Pulling back, Chanyeol looked down at him, expression serious. “But what way would you rather live? Can you even live up to God’s expectations if he says what you are is inherently wrong? Do you want to impress someone who hates what you are?” 

He turned around, feeling tortured, “I—” Arms wrapped around him from behind, lips finding his neck, Chanyeol murmuring, “How about this: Let me show you the alternative. If you don’t like it, that’s your choice.” 

Kyungsoo felt like he couldn’t breathe—like Chanyeol had reached into his chest and squeezed his lungs when he spoke. He needed to decide, but he couldn’t remember how to complete basic bodily functions, and had no idea how to move against the doctrine he had given his life to. 

Chanyeol didn’t wait for an answer, though; instead his lips slid up his neck, nipping at a spot behind his ear, chuckling when it elicited a shiver from the man in his arms. 

“Like this Father, just like this,” he soothed, nipping the shell of the man’s ear, then licking down his neck to his exposed shoulder. 

Kyungsoo gasped, arousal pooling in his stomach as the incubus’s hands slipped under the big shirt to rest on his stomach, holding him up as he started sucking a mark onto the man’s shoulder, the combination of pain and pleasure a long lost sensation that had the pastor thinking back to a warm summer, the only time in his life he had felt truly accepted by those around him. 

His name had been Chanyeol, and he smiled at Kyungsoo like _he_ was the world, like nothing else could matter so long as they touched. 

“You’re not really him, then,” Kyungsoo murmured, not wanting to think about it, but being unable to move forward without admitting it. 

“Are you sure?” The incubus who looked like his first love purred, “I’m here now. What if I was there then? Don’t you wonder how I know so much about you?” 

He sounded like him. Acted like him. 

God, forgive him. 

Kyungsoo turned in his hold, hands going to rest on the man’s forearms, just like he used to when he would be pulled off balance into some hidden place so they could sneak kisses. Chanyeol had never been smart enough to keep things perfectly discreet in public, but it was one of the things he loved about him—that there was no part of him ashamed of them. 

He leaned up to kiss him fiercely, plush lips parting as they met the other’s, tongues meeting in a wild tangle, Kyungsoo being transported back to the days when being caught was more out of luck than planning. In those days, every touch was frantic, scared and thrilled, with love to temper the hardness of the touches. 

Chanyeol’s hands shifted down to his hips, and he lifted him up, laying him down on his bed with enough gentleness that the bed only groaned slightly when he climbed up onto it as well, pressing Kyungsoo into the mattress with additional kisses, hard and heated, teeth dragging over his lower lip as he moved back in again. 

Kyungsoo moaned, hands going up into his hair, and his head fell back, accidentally breaking the kiss when Chanyeol’s hand went down, palming him over his boxers, the heel of his hand pressing just hard enough to drag a whimper out of the priest. 

“My God,” he groaned, Chanyeol’s lips leaving a trail of heated kisses down his jawline, stopping to leave an obvious hickey. 

Chanyeol, to his credit, didn’t laugh, but when he whispered, “You look so good in my shirt,” Kyungsoo sobbed out, eyes opening. 

Reaching down frantically, his hands grabbed for Chanyeol’s shoulders with a sense of panic that barely made sense, Kyungsoo only calming slightly when the incubus’s hand slipped inside his boxers to grasp his cock. 

“Relax.” Chanyeol ordered, voice stern in his ear, “We won’t be interrupted. Not this time.” 

Kyungsoo couldn’t bear to think of the last time he had seen Chanyeol, but tears still pricked at the corners of his eyes unconsciously, hands digging in harder. 

In response, Chanyeol left a hickey on his neck, high up where his collar couldn’t cover it, making it large, then soothing it so the proof was there without too much pain. 

Seeming to sense that Kyungsoo wanted more than attention for his neck, his hand started to slowly pump him, being careful that the friction never became too much, the rough drag of his fingers drawing a sigh like an oath out of the man. 

“I want to touch you, too.” He murmured, almost afraid to voice his desire out loud. 

Chanyeol drew back from his neck and smiled at him, reaching to pull his own pants and underwear down, before he guided Kyungsoo’s cock out of his boxers, letting their cock heads bump together for a moment. 

The sensation was blinding, and Kyungsoo scrambled, fingers scraping over the incubus’s chest in a way that would have hurt if he didn’t cut his nails so short. 

“Oh, oh,” he panted, “It’s—oh my.” Kyungsoo refused to swear, but his brain short circuited, unable to think, unable to process anything besides their closeness and the way their cocks rubbed together, each glide over his cock sending another dizzying rush of blood south. 

He was painfully hard already, even though the rubbing was a bit too rough sans lubricant, so he felt a sense of relief as he looked down at Chanyeol and noticed the man had a bottle of lube in his hand. 

“Did you come here with that?” He wrinkled his nose. 

Chanyeol laughed at that, but didn’t answer, going to squirt some into his hand, warming it up before going to grab both of their cocks at once, aiding the slide as they moved together, the incubus’s cock larger than Kyungsoo’s, though it was Kyungsoo’s cock that had precum beading at the tip, it sticking to the other when they were moved a certain way. 

Kyungsoo watched the liquid cling to both of them, binding them together in such an ephemeral, vulgar way, and something in him calmed—he wanted this. It was idiotic of him to deny how much he wanted this, how much he needed _proof_ of his life being worth loving, being worth affection. God was all he had ever known, but _damn it,_ he deserved unconditional love, even if it came from something rooted in sin. Even if this thing was just trying to get his soul, he would rather die feeling loved, even just for an hour. 

Knocking came from the door, but both of them ignored it—it not even registering to Kyungsoo. They would think he fell asleep; they could come back later. 

Chanyeol’s lips found his again, seeming to share the thought that they had to be quiet, his lips moving to Kyungsoo’s upper lip to suck on it, his hand pumping both cocks pinned between their bodies, both still in their t-shirts. It took Kyungsoo back, and for once, he actually felt his age. 

When the knocking stopped, they pulled apart reluctantly, eyes on each other, and Kyungsoo offered him a soft smile. “I know what comes next, but is there any chance…” 

The incubus looked at him curiously, waiting for him to finish. 

“You could…” he gestured at their cocks, “They could…stay like this?” 

Chanyeol grinned then, amused that it was so hard for the priest to say what they were doing. “I wish I could tell you yes, but if I did that for you, it might be a bit alarming.” 

Kyungsoo was already shaking his head. “I don’t care.” It might be selfish, but he didn’t want any part of this process to feel painful. If Chanyeol really was an incubus, if his first love was really here, if they were the same…it was mind boggling, and he honestly didn’t know. But _if_ this incubus really was what he said, he should be able to keep him from the pain of a first time when he’d never had anything beyond a rectal exam. 

A moment passed, discomfort starting to curl in his stomach, but Chanyeol nodded ultimately, bowing over, pulling Kyungsoo’s pillow under his hips as he propped him up, then poured more lube into his hands. 

Kyungsoo could only watch with nervous anticipation, but as Chanyeol went to spread his legs, the clear sensation of something hot and soft dragging along his cock resumed, even though nothing visible to his eyes was there. 

“Oh, oh,” he stuttered, nearly taking the Lord’s name in vain, “It feels just like it…oh…” 

The larger cock that he felt against his own slid along the underside of his shaft, head bumping at the underside, and his head fell back against the bed, overwhelmed by the faster motion. It was at that moment that Chanyeol pushed a finger into his entrance, the pain of the stretch largely ignored in favor of the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Tight,” Chanyeol appraised, curling his finger, starting to press it in and out of him in long strokes. 

Kyungsoo could barely focus on that; Chanyeol’s fingers felt thick and kind of rough, wonderful, though they were nothing compared to the sensation of the other cock, his own throbbing with need at their touches, the sensation tantalizing but not nearly enough. 

“Hang in there, Father,” Chanyeol teased, kissing his thigh, “We’ll get there soon enough.” 

He went to press a second finger in, and the sensation on Kyungsoo’s cock changed to a wet heat, it comparable to nothing he had even accidentally done to himself before. It must have been a blowjob, the phantom mouth tight around his hardness, and the second finger worked in and out of him with the first, crooking and rubbing against his tight ring of muscle to loosen him up for the larger penetration to come. 

It felt weird saying so, but Kyungsoo could see dying after this—the pleasure he felt great enough that for once he wasn’t worried about the morality of his actions, or the people that might see what he had done somehow. For once, he didn’t have a judge and jury waiting for him, and Kyungsoo could cry with relief. 

A third finger went in the moment the phantom mouth started sucking, but the stretch was so filling that pleasure courted pain for the first true time, and Kyungsoo could feel it. 

“Chanyeol,” he whispered. 

“I know.” The man replied instantly, “It’ll be better when I’m in you, Father. Don’t worry.” 

“Why do you call me that?” He groaned, “Not even my name, just my title…” 

The incubus snorted. “Because I like it better than a pet name.” His fingers shifted, and the pleasure suddenly seemed more intense, Kyungsoo shifting his own hips for the first time since the man started working him open, and it seemed like the pain would break into the satisfaction of being filled. 

“I like reminding you that you can still be this even through you’re actually enjoying yourself.” 

Kyungsoo wanted to point out that for a Catholic priest that it wouldn’t matter if he was with a man or a woman; sex of any kind was taboo. However, as the pressure worked over his cock, he went to pull his shirt off, body growing too hot for the piece of clothing. 

Tossing it to the side, he thought he heard someone knocking again, but he was distracted by the insistent rubbing of one spot inside of himself, the intensity and restlessness in his body growing in leaps and bounds, until he felt like he could cum, but the sheer amount of pleasure didn’t match the sensation. 

Chanyeol seemed to know it was time, and he reached for the lube once more. As he went to spread it down over his own length, Kyungsoo swore he heard someone calling his name from the other side of the door, the banging becoming just a bit more legible. 

Before he could focus on it, though, Chanyeol had moved to hover over him, hands planting on the bed next to Kyungsoo’s head. 

They looked at each other for a long moment, and Kyungsoo saw twin images of fire and pleasure, carnal energy that would last until the end of time, and the gentleness of pinkies hooked together, fluttering heartbeats, the wide smile of someone who had a delicious secret. 

His heart throbbed in his chest, and he closed his eyes, holding his breath as the pleasurable sensations left him, leaving him only with a need to be filled. 

“Kyungsoo—” the name was a whisper on his lips, and Chanyeol was kissing him as he eased himself into the other, filling him up in a way he honestly thought he wouldn’t be able to take fully. 

His hands went first to rest against Chanyeol’s chest, but even when he grabbed hard, it couldn’t abate the pain, and he chased the next immediate need he had, forcing his hands not to grab so hard as they slid up to cradle the incubus’s face. 

He felt the man’s lips still against his as Kyungsoo moved to take control, tongue tracing over Chanyeol’s lower lip, before he shyly went to push inside, meeting Chanyeol’s tongue with an eagerness only belayed by the man’s hips as they started to move. 

Discomfort courted pleasure, and he held Chanyeol’s face carefully, kissing him deeply as the man slowly built up his thrusts, filling the other, pulling out just enough, then thrusting back in, the back of the bed crashing against the wall in a way that should seem worrying, but Kyungsoo just couldn’t give a shit about. 

Momentum building, the stretch burned, it taking a bit of his pleasure with it, until Chanyeol wrapped one hand around the man’s member, pumping him like he had before. This time it didn’t really do as much, but the disconcerting sensation faded much more quickly this time as they worked together, tongues moving sloppily in tandem. 

Their motions were fluid; Kyungsoo’s hands slid down to around Chanyeol’s neck, and they broke the kiss, moans sweetly filling the air as Chanyeol pumped his cock in time with his thrusts, Kyungsoo feeling like he had finally overcome something huge. 

Pleasure mounting, Kyungsoo whispered his name, just happy to say it, to have someone in his arms that chased him with no concern of right or wrong. Love was love, and he was tired of running from his own thoughts. 

He would cum soon—it had been so long since his teenage years, but he remembered the sensation of building pressure—and from the jerky way Chanyeol’s hips began to move, he wondered if the same could be said for the incubus. 

“Cum with me.” The man murmured against his cheek, lips brushing over the warm skin. 

“Need—little more.” Kyungsoo whined in reply, fingers skating over his shoulders. 

Chanyeol seemed to frown, but he nodded, and started thrusting harder, nearly shifting Kyungsoo further up the bed, producing little gasps of shock and awe when he moved him, maintaining the pace. 

His hand circled his cock lightly, a taunting mate to the way his hips moved, and Kyungsoo exhaled, almost sobbing out, hearing the command again. 

This time, when Chanyeol’s hand tugged upward, his cock spilled over him, up over both of their chests, painting them white with his satisfaction. 

Kyungsoo’s head was thrown back, body going boneless, and Chanyeol rolled his hips with the tenacity of someone who could go for hours to chase one orgasm. 

“That’s nice,” he teased, hand collecting the seed with amusement, “but that’s not the ‘cum’ I meant. I meant ‘cum’ as in _‘come_ with me.’” 

“With you?” He blinked up at him, body still shaken with the thrusts, the banging on his door growing louder. 

“Yes.” Chanyeol’s eyes glowed. “Come with me. I don’t want to leave you. And you deserve better.” 

As he spoke, he recognized the frantic voice of Tao, his friend, and the other pastors that he felt so close to, and the pain started to move back in, guilt replacing happiness. 

A vision floated up in front of him, of Chanyeol’s panicked, anguished face as the councilors at the camp turned their flashlights on them. 

“Don’t worry,” he had whispered, “I’ll find you again, somehow. I won’t forget about you, Kyungsoo.” 

Tears built up in his eyes: For the first time, he selfishly grabbed for his happiness, vicious in his unwillingness to let it go. 

_“I love you, Kyungsoo. This isn’t goodbye forever.”_

“I want to.” He whispered, tears welling up in his eyes, “I’m tired of being afraid and guilty. I just want to be happy.” 

Chanyeol seemed to understand, and his hips stilled, the man finally cumming inside of him, filling Kyungsoo for the first time. 

Pleasure overwhelmed the pastor one last time, and he sobbed out, before things went white once more, as the lingering bad taste of reality left his tongue. 

\-- 

When the Fathers burst into the room, they stared in dismay at the remains of everything that had belonged to Father Kyungsoo; it all charred and shivering with heat. The fire had already consumed most of the far side of the room, and they backed away, someone immediately dialing for the fire department. 

Father Zitao prayed all night, but the body was never found. No one understood how a fire could be so contained like that, and frankly, the Fathers were afraid to consider the possibilities. In the end, people mourned for the Father, treating it like a freak accident, but when everyone moved to pray for him in church, one Ahn Hyejin could be heard murmuring beside her parents: 

“You idiots…if you were going to cry, you shouldn’t have made it so easy.”

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted [here](http://exofreelovemods.livejournal.com/3242.html) for exofreelovefest.
> 
> If you feel up to it, come talk to me [here](http://trappinglightningbugs.tumblr.com)~


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